


Flawless Technique

by CommunionNimrod



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Caretaking, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hermann has a Bad Day, M/M, Mild Descriptions of a Panic Attack, Newt's on a mission, Panic Attacks, Pillow & Blanket Forts, and his mission is to help Hermann feel better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 07:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16404158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommunionNimrod/pseuds/CommunionNimrod
Summary: Hermann has a bad physical and mental day;  Newt can tell from the moment they wake up that morning that it would be a struggle.  When things reach their peak, Newt decides to set in motion a pretty great plan to distract Hermann's from the bad and construct the best blanket fort ever.Best plan, best blanket fort - it's a no brainer.  He's so got this.





	Flawless Technique

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for the 2018 SFW Newmann fest.
> 
> Also special shout out to GooberFeesh - we talked quite in depth about these two and blanket forts a few weeks ago so this prompt felt perfect!

Hermann’s having a bad day - both mentally and physically.  Newt can tell from the moment they were waking up that it was a possibility, and decides without hesitation to be the force he knew the other man was gonna need to trudge through the day.  He’s so familiar with Hermann’s ins and outs that when it takes Newt ten minutes of gentle coaxing to get him to emerge from under the mound of blankets he was buried under, he knows the pain is more severe than usual.  Hermann is always more efficient than Newt at getting out of bed and starting the day when there are things to be done, so this role reversal speaks volumes.

Newt takes his mission very seriously.  He always does. Most of the day goes by without incident, but the honorary dinner they have to go to that evening is when things tank.  Hermann has been a bit off all day, a bit more closed off than usual, and he is not the social butterfly that can embrace large dinners on a Good Day.  Newt is happy to take as much of the expected conversation as possible (he always is, he loves talking, as anyone can confirm), but they end up having to excuse themselves and go home early as Hermann falls into a pretty severe panic attack.

Newt sees the signs of it before anyone else can; he always watches Hermann like a hawk, after all.  A man in love can get that way. He sees the way Hermann’s chest starts to rise and fall with shallow breaths, the way his dark eyes are locked on the table (wide and glassy with unshed tears), and the way he’s got the cloth napkin in his lap in a trembling vice grip between his long fingers.  Newt excuses them to the bathroom at first, quickly trying to get Hermann into a quiet, private setting. However, when Hermann practically begs in a strained voice not to be touched as he shies away from attempts at physical comfort (back rubbing, hair stroking, and loose hugs usually tend to help and is what Newt first starts to try), Newt knows it’s time to go home.

They’ve been home for a little under an hour now.  Hermann is stretched out on the couch, book in hand, while Newt sits cross legged on the floor nearby playing a game on his tablet.  He goes through the colorful Tetris-like levels without paying much attention, having noticed that Hermann is definitely not turning pages in his book as is watching him instead.  He hasn’t turned a single page for a while, actually. Newt taps his fingers on the back of the device, before an idea hits him. He stands up quickly, dropping the tablet on the coffee table and beaming, hands on his hips.

“Blanket fort,” he exclaims abruptly.

Slowly, Hermann turns and looks up at him over the rim of his ridiculous but adorable old man glasses.  He arches an eyebrow, unsurprised by the random outburst, but curious nonetheless.

“What?” he asks, eyes flicking back to his book before he slots a bookmark in place and shuts it.

“Blanket fort, dude,” Newt repeats, as if that clearly explains it.

“I heard what you said, Newton, I am requesting clarification,” Hermann sighs, sitting up a bit straighter.  The book is cast aside completely.

“We’re gonna build one.”

“Newton …” Hermann presses his lips together in a thin line, brow furrowing slightly.  “I cannot possibly-”

“Oh I know,” Newt says quickly, waving a hand back and forth in the air in front of him.  “I can actually build the fort, Herms, don’t you worry about that. You can sit there and fuss over my technique like you love to do.  Even if my technique is flawless.”

“Your technique is not flawless, it’s haphazard and thoughtless, and without any assistance or input from me, your forts always collapse within twenty minutes.”

“ _ Flawless _ ,” Newt repeats, smirking.

Hermann rolls his eyes, but the beginnings of a smile tug at his wide, thin mouth.  Success!! Newt thinks it’s the first time all day he’s seen a genuine smile from the other man, so he knows he’s absolutely made the right call here.  Not that he had any doubts, because his ideas are awesome, but it warms his heart to see the slow shift in Hermann’s mood.

“Hang tight, buttercup, I’ll be right back,” he requests.

“I would like to request that you  **never** call me that again,” Hermann fusses, but Newt is already bouncing out of the living room and into their bedroom.

Newt makes a beeline through the room and over to one of their closets, where Hermann had decided to store all of their blankets and bed things that weren’t currently in use.  Newt hadn’t seen why they needed a designated place like this when they first moved in together, but he absolutely sees the benefit of it now. The closet is practically full by this point, and imagining the stuff scattered around the house is insane, even for him.  Absently poking his tongue out of the side of his mouth, Newt pushes up on his toes and starts tugging out blankets. 

They have … a lot of them.  Like, a whole hell of a lot.  If Hermann was a dragon in an alternate reality, Newt is confident his secret, special horde would be blankets.  Hell, this closet already IS his horde. Newt snorts at the image - a big ol’ gray dragon wearing a sweater vest and glasses perched on the edge of his snout (complete with old man grandpa chain of course), curled up on the biggest mound of blankets ever and tapping the ground skeptically with chalk-covered claws.  Yep. That’s his Herms.

Now with his arms full of blankets, Newt blindly makes his way back into the living room and dumps them unceremoniously on the floor.  He huffs triumphantly and glances around, eyeing their furniture and feeling Hermann’s eyes on him as he plots. He never plans too far ahead when he’s constructing the ultimate blanket fort, but he plots.  A bit.

“By the way, babe, you’d be a very attractive dragon,” he says as he turns to go back to the bedroom for round two of the blanket retrieval.

“I … what?” Hermann asks, blinking, but Newt just flashes him a lopsided grin and leaves the room without elaborating.  He can hear Hermann sighing, no doubt shaking his head, and it just makes Newt grin more.

Round two gets the rest of the blankets and Newt triumphantly stomps back into the living room once again (and only running into the doorframe of the bedroom a little bit on his way).  Once he drops those blankets on the floor as well, Newt rubs at the back of his head as he looks around the room again and mentally catalogues their furniture. This kind of thing was always easier when he was a kid, because he was sooooo much shorter.  Now, Newt has to adjust to adult heights, which limits his options ever so slightly.

“Alright,” he announces, slapping his hands together and rubbing them like a triumphant mad scientist about to enact his perfect plan.  He kinda IS that mad scientist with a perfect plan, though, so it’s appropriate.

First, he starts dragging furniture around, using the coffee table as a center point and their couch for the back.  He shifts chairs around, bringing some in from the kitchen to form a loose square, and … almost moving the tv, but deciding against it (“Newton, darling, please do not touch the tv, it’ll be a disaster without my help and you know it”) and instead using it as another “wall” for the fort.

Next came pillows.  This is always the precarious part, and half the time is Newt’s downfall.  So, with a furrowed brow and a stuck out tongue, he focuses very carefully as he stacks them.  He can feel Hermann’s eyes on him, but the other man stays silent as he works, which is surprising.  At least, until he starts grabbing blankets.

“Newton, you need something in the center,” Hermann mutters as Newt is halfway bent over and picking up the first blanket.  Newt blinks and glances over.

“Huh?” he asks, contorting his neck in a weird way to glance at where the coffee table is.

“How do you expect to create the actual structure of the fort without a post in the middle to use for the roof?”

_ Oooohh _ , dang.  Hermann’s right.  Newt drops the blanket and straightens, thinking for a moment.  Then, he snaps his fingers and hops around the current fort skeleton to grab a few thick books - a dictionary, a ridiculously complicated maths textbook, and a Godzilla omnibus - and their upright broom.  He stacks the books on the middle of the table and sets the broom on top of them. There. Now he has a meeting point.

“That cannot possibly be sturdy enough to hold,” Hermann comments as Newt is starting to drape blankets again.  “You do have an actual plan for this, right? A vision?”

“Mmmmm,” Newt hums, tossing the edge of a blanket over the tv and stretching it carefully to the edges and some of the stacked pillows.  “Yeah, sure. Vision. Totally.”

“I should have guessed,” Hermann sighs.  Newt glances back just in time to see that trademark Gottlieb Eye Roll.

“Listen dude, I am a blanket fort connoisseur, have a little faith.”

Slowly, blanket after blanket gets draped across furniture.  It dips concerningly low in some places, and Newt is sure that if they breathe on it or look at it funny, it’ll topple over, but it’s holding for now and that’s what matters.  Hermann is sure to chime in as he works, and if that leads to a small squabble, well …

> _ “Newton, it’s lumpy and uneven over there, it’s never going to stay.” _
> 
> _ “Chill out, it’ll stay.” _
> 
> _ “No it won’t, if you would just-” _
> 
> _ “I don’t need you bossing me around, Herms, I’ve got this!” _
> 
> _ “Using pillows as part of the structure never works, I have  _ **_told you_ ** _ so many times and you never listen.  Angles, Newton, angles and solid furniture are the best things you can utilize.” _
> 
> _ “If you’re such the expert then you get up and do it yourself, then!” _
> 
> _ “If I could I absolutely would!” _
> 
> _ “Yeah well, it’s my blanket fort, I’m telling you, I’ve GOT THIS!” _
> 
> _ “You stubborn man, honestly, it’s going to collapse in under an hour, I guarantee you this.  And that’s me being generous.” _
> 
> _ “Oh, what little faith you have.” _
> 
> _ “Yes, I have very little faith, Newton.” _
> 
> _ “DUDE, come on, you’re supposed to have my back in all things!” _
> 
> _ “Well if you would heed my suggestions then maybe I would have your back!  But you continue to be bull-headed and trying to support that is a foolish endeavor.” _
> 
> _ “Wow, love you too, man.  Jesus.” _

Yep, if it leads to a squabble then, well, that’s just how they work.  It’s how they’ve always worked best, after all. Newt is kinda irritated by Hermann’s “constructive criticism”, but he can’t keep the smile off his face as he snaps right back and keeps working and totally ignoring him.  He kinda loves their dumb fights. Plus, it means that Hermann is feeling at least a little better. Newt will pick fight after fight if it helps Hermann feel more like himself.

There’s a bit of a close call as Newt is close to finished with the fort.  He honestly isn’t sure what does it, what accidental quick movement sets it off, but Newt’s bumping into a stack of pillows, which tugs at one of the blankets and causes the broom to wobble dangerously.  Both of them suck in a sharp breath, and Newt freezes, eyes wide. It’s a crazy tense moment, almost like the first time he’d watched the ending to Inception (Was the damn topper spinning or about to fall over and stop?!  Newt still, to this day, can’t decide. That shit keeps him up some nights.), but thankfully it settles back into place without incident.

“I told you it was too unstable,” Hermann mumbles as Newt is exhaling in relief.  Newt scoffs in response and flips his middle finger up in the direction of the couch.

With a bit more adjusting, a bit of shifting, and some timid pokes with Hermann’s cane, Newt finally declares the fort built.  He can’t stand up completely straight in it, ducking his head and hunching his shoulders slightly, but that’s fine! He’s proud of the work he did, and even if Hermann is right and there are some lumpy places, overall it looks pretty great.  Carefully, he crosses the small enclosed space and reaches the couch, smiling down at Hermann.

“I’m a rockstar,” he grins, crossing his arms across his chest.  Hermann is quiet as he looks around the fort, and he gives a small nod.

“I must admit, it turned out rather okay.”

“Hell yeah it did,” Newt nods.  “Cause I’m awesome.”

“You are indeed,” Hermann chuckles, smiling fondly up at him.  It only makes Newt grin wider, if it’s possible. There it is, there’s that lovely Hermann smile that is reserved for him and only him most of the time.  Newt loves the way his face crinkles at the edges of his eyes and mouth.

“It was a lot of hard work, so uh, scoot over.”

Hermann snorts but does exactly that, carefully shifting so that Newt is able to slide up next to him.  It’s unfortunately never just that easy - their couch is pretty big but still - so Newt has to wiggle and Hermann has to press against the back of the couch until they’re finally able to settle.  Newt is stretched out and sitting up slightly, Herman curled against his side and resting his head on Newt’s chest. Hermann drapes one of his arms across Newt’s stomach and sighs.

“How are you feeling?” Newt asks after a few moments of comfortable peace, his voice barely above a whisper.  It’s the first time since dinner that he’s vocally acknowledged the panic attack, and he gently rubs Hermann’s arm as he speaks.

“Better,” Hermann replies.  Newt glances down and sees that his eyes are closed.  “Thank you.”

“You can always count on me, you know that right?” Newt asks.  He squeezes Hermann’s shoulder, and in response, Hermann slides his other hand up enough to take Newt’s and thread their fingers together loosely.

“I absolutely do, liebling.”

They fall silent, and Newt stares up at the dark blue blanket above them.  It’s a perfect moment. Naturally, though, said perfect moment is ruined when there is a rustle and shifting noise somewhere to their right, followed by a soft crash.  Newt stiffens and turns his head quickly, eyes wide as he sees a corner of the fort sinking. Well  _ fuck _ .  Hermann cracks one eye open and smirks.

“Told you,” he said, his voice rough with clear evidence that he was beginning to doze off.

“..... shut up, Herms.”


End file.
